A Sun In The Night
by Casey Toh
Summary: Batman from some Gothamites' POV...not my best story, but please do review...thanks.


A Sun In The Night

Disclaimer: Batman and all related characters are trademarks of DC Comics. No intentional copyright infringement is intended through their use.

Note: This is probably one of the worst stories I have ever written. So go ahead and laugh.

**A Sun In The Night**

By Casey Toh

Gotham City. A City of Opportunities. A Land of Despair. The Most Dangerous City In The World. Every night, hundreds of things happen as I watch, and even when I don't. 

He stood before me now, a living shadow within shadows, as if the darkness was him, and he was darkness. Before him, a man he and I both hated to the core laid on his side, bounded by monofilament, his shrill laugh ringing in my ears.

"Jim," he said.

I could only nod in response; so great my relief was that the Joker had been caught. Just a few hours earlier, the Joker had somehow escaped from Arkham, going on a killing spree, not that he didn't murder many in his saner states.

I had called _him_ on it, and as I gaze at him now, I finally understood…

***

We saw him for a couple of minutes on our neighbor's roof, just standing there and scanning the neighborhood. He was a stark silhouette against the moon's bright glare, a phantom on our river of billowing curtains.

The ten o'clock news had just ended with a warning from the Commissioner that the Joker had escaped, and everyone was to be careful and keep the doors locked, and…

"Ted, close the windows and latch them," I told my husband, voice shaky. "The Joker, he might be—"

…my heart froze as images of the criminal flashed through my mind. I knew that if the Joker wanted _in_, no way was a locked door and latched windows going to keep him _out._ Both of us knew that.

"Honey," he said. "We know that there's no protection against the Joker but _him_."

We rose from the couch and walked over to the windows, parting the curtains to latch the windows. I was going crazy with fear. I had my children to think of. I had my retired parents to feed. I had—

"Honey, look." Ted's voice interrupted my frenzied thoughts and I looked up.

_His_ eyes caught my wide ones, and I was certain, Ted's. I froze, hypnotized by them, by the warmth they held, by their assurance. I never thought it would be like this. 

As if he had read my thoughts, he nodded, and was gone.

Ted and I shut the windows and redrew the curtains, staring at each other and smiling. I had contemplated leaving Gotham many times, afraid of the high crime rates, but Ted had always insisted on staying. 

Now I know why I will never leave Gotham.

***

I was certain I was going to die. There was no doubt in my mind concerning that notion. But oh God! I was too young to die!

My back met with resistance and my palms pressed against it. A wall! Oh God, why did there have to be a wall? No, no, don't come closer!

The three guys did, one holding a knife, the other two swinging bats. Could I make a run for it? No, can't. Trapped. There must be something, someone…

"Help!" I screamed.

They just grinned cruelly, showing their yellow, crooked teeth. Oh shit, I was dog-meat for sure. Those teeth would sink into my flesh, pull me apart chunk by chunk…

Then, _he_ came. Right in front of me; his cloak billowing to either side of him as if forming an impenetrable wall. Protecting me.

There were noises made by the three, grunts, screams and groans, and when he moved, I saw that they were out cold. Their weapons laid on the ground, now harmless.

I was saved! By God! I never thought I would come so close to being killed, but I was saved! Alive! Unharmed!

_He_ looked at me, nodded, and moved away. Gone, in less than a second, like a phantom. 

My heart beat again. "Thank you," I whispered, certain that the belated sentiment was not heard.

But I had a feeling it was felt.

***

My hand trembled as I passed the box to another. This had to go right, or everything would be lost. Surprisingly, I heard myself snap steadily, "Move it, people!"

I could already feel the bucks I would get for these. It was just amazing how much money people would pay for drugs, but what the hey? It's not my business if they wanna die. It was my business to get rich.

Then, there was a whirring noise. The second it took me to identify what it was, two of my men went down. Near them, another who was partly in the shadows collapsed as he was knocked out.

"Get 'im!" I screamed.

But it was too late. Before I had even completed the two-words order, all of my seven men were incapacitated. I drew my revolver out, hearing the rhythm of my heart in my ears. I was gonna be ready for him. I was gonna kill him. I was gonna—

"Argh!" Pain started at the base of my skull and traveled to my head. The last thing I brought with me as darkness closed all around was hatred. Pure, unadulterated hatred.

***

"Noooo!" I screamed. "My little girl!" This couldn't be happening. This shouldn't be happening! The fire! It was going to burn my daughter!

"Let me in!" I tried to push past the barricade of a firefighter. I wanted my girl! She couldn't leave me like this! Those idiots didn't understand!

"I'm sorry, sir," the man blocking me said. "The fire's too big. We cannot take the chance. I'm sorry." As if to emphasize his words, there was an explosion and flames shot out of the only window that hadn't been burnt.

I felt tears. My little girl was gone! No! It couldn't be! It just couldn—

"Sir! Look!"

I didn't want to look. My only daughter was gone! What was there to look?

"Sir!"

This time, I did look. A figure clad in black leapt out from the window—the window to the room where my little girl was. It landed sure-footedly, and I saw who was in his arms when his cloak parted.

"Jenny!" I dashed forward and scooped her up in my arms. Her small body gave me warmth. The night suddenly seemed brighter, lighter.

"Daddy!"

Through my tears, I saw him gazing at us with an unreadable expression on his face. I nodded in gratitude, throat too dry for more words. I thought I saw the barest hint of a smile before he left.

***

"I'd itsy-bitsy tear your heart out!" He threatened.

"I dare you!" That came out shakier than he thought.

I stared on, not daring to catch the Joker's attention. There were so many people in the train. Why did he have to choose my grandmother of all people?

Johnny was trying to defend us, but I knew he couldn't. However good a black belt in karate he was, the Joker was a madman, capable of any act.

Possibly finding that Johnny was too much of a bore, he said in a mad tone, "You didn't scream, kid, and for that, the old granny gets it."

Before my horrified eyes, he took a gun out. Bang! Beside me, my grandmother gave a gasp, doubled over, and hit the floor before I could do anything. 

"No." That couldn't be grandma on the floor. "No!"

The tears wouldn't come. I didn't know why. Grandma was gone. I should be crying. She was the only family I had.

"Joker."

That voice. I looked up, and there _he_ was, holding the murderer by his lapels, having decked him. His stance, strong; his tone, cold; his face, impassive.

I hated him right then. I hated him far more than the Joker! I hated him for not stopping the madman sooner! He! He was the cause of grandma's death! Why didn't he arrive sooner? I wanted him to pay!

"You murderer!" I screamed, lunging for him. I wanted to tear him apart! I wanted him to pay!

He dropped the limp body of the Joker and grabbed my wrists, keeping me at arm's length. I didn't care. I kicked him in the crotch. He didn't move, didn't even wince. His suit must be shock-absorbent. 

"I'm sorry."

I almost didn't catch that, too low and too soft to be heard over my screams of pain. Those words, filled with so much guilt, so much sadness, so much…pain, coming from him. It was as if he mourned with me for grandma…as if he knew her personally.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, releasing me. The pain coming from him, so much more intense. The sorrow, evident in his eyes. 

And I finally understood; finally understood why he didn't arrive sooner. He couldn't. Much as catching the Joker was his goal, for one he couldn't save, two died.

I crumpled to the floor, one hand on grandma's body, another covering my eyes. I didn't want anyone to see my eyes. I didn't want _him_ to see my eyes. 

I felt his gloved hand on my shoulder, so gentle, so soft.

And I cried, both for grandma, and for him.

***

…why I remained in Gotham. After all these years, I've finally got it.

I look into his eyes now and I see them shining. The old lady in the train. He hadn't been able to save her. He blames himself for it. He blames himself for every single life he hadn't been able to save.

He has his reasons, I know. His watch spreads over the entire city. If, just for the Joker, he ignored other crimes, more lives would die, more people would suffer than was necessary. He couldn't work for the good of any individual. He could only strive for the whole of Gotham.

I understood that, knew that I would do the same thing. The man was an evil who wielded his own demons for the good of Gotham, to battle his own kind. It was a war of one against many. It was a war that was lost even before it was fought. It was a war he could never win.

But he fought on, as did I. Many times, when I felt like giving up, I'd think of him. Many times, when I felt like abandoning Gotham to the only man keeping the city from ripping itself apart, I'd think of him.

I couldn't leave, not now, not ever. Nowhere in any other parts of the world would I even catch a glimpse of the friendship we shared now, the trust, the dedication.

I looked at Gotham, I saw pain, hurt, sadness and defeat.

I looked at Batman, and saw hope.


End file.
